Interesting though not immediately accessible is probably the best way to describe the New York City-via-Baltimore based rockers Animal Collective. Brimming with energy, bubbly in sound and always diverging into uncharted auditory territory, the nicknamed quartet of friends have made sure that their continuously-changing sound is their sole constraint when it comes to producing new music.
They create a definitive study in contrasts, piecing eclectic elements of psychedelic influenced folk, experimental ambience and avant-garde noise rock together on their eighth album, Strawberry Jam.
On the opening track, “Peacebone,” chirping electronic beats and keyboards provide an amusing backdrop for lead singer Avey Tare’s (really named David Portner) vocals. Avey cycles through different octaves, jumping from a grumbling register to Sesame Street-pitched verses as he muses “It’s not [his] words you should follow/ but rather your own insight.”
Tare continues with his striking vocals on the album’s next track “Unsolved Mysteries,” bellowing out his shyness of having “to duck when/ you look at with me with your blue eyes/ brown eyes/ and inner eye” on top of surreal pop melodies provided by the Geologist’s (Brian Weitz) deft mixing.
“Chores” captures more of the Animal Collective’s catchy side of music, as the protagonist hopes for the monotony of his chores to end since “taking a walk out in the light drizzle/ at the end of the day,” seems like a much more fascinating alternative. As the whimsical vocals dissolve, “Chores” descends into a jumble of spacey synths and resounding bass-drum kicks, creating a dance infused coda.
As strong as Strawberry Jam’s introduction is, the album’s center-showpiece is the seven-minute sweeping movement aptly titled “Fireworks.” Panda Bear’s (Noah Lennox) steady high-hat marching drumbeat keeps everything in perfect sync, as cascading marimba beats and Deakin’s (Josh Dibb) tapped rhythm guitar commence the track.
Tare’s peaceful “Oooo Oooo Oooo Ooo’s” provide a soothing background, as he recounts a “sacred night” by the ocean “where [he] couldn’t lift you up/ cause [his] mind was too tired” but nevertheless enjoyed the “astounding beaches/ and the [frightening] fireworks,” that rendered him “colorblind” on top of stellar jangly pop. The Geologist’s added ambience gives a convincing imitation of sea gulls, as the song meanders peacefully through the seaside reverie.
Strawberry Jam closes on a note as delicious and elaborate as its beginning. Sprawling and manic, Avey’s hysteria-tinged vocals shine on the track “Cuckoo, Cuckoo” amidst shuffling snare rolls and quiet piano playing. An analysis into the decay of innocence between childhood and adulthood, the song’s everyman “drifts and prays/ for sun-kissed golden days.” Undoubtedly, one of the more introspective tracks on the album, Tare’s voice nears the precipice of breaking before he exerts restraint and delves instead into a haunting chorus.
Overall, the Animal Collective creates an ambitious and organically flowing record, layered with inquisitive lyrics and effervescent melodies.
Driven by Avey Tare’s unique vocals and impressive range, along with Panda Bear’s powerful percussion, and the sonic contributions of Deakin and the Geologist, the band captures something truly poignant and elaborate. Oddly harmonious, commanding, and certainly affecting, these Baltimore balladeers definitely leave an indelible mark upon the listener with Strawberry Jam.